


Look At Us Now

by anniebibananie



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: But I wrote this kinda Dan Blair esque, F/M, Fancy, Gossip Girl AU, Really they should be more Chuck Blair, Talking about feelingsssss, Theon is a Dan Chuck fusion I guess, Upper East Side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23482396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniebibananie/pseuds/anniebibananie
Summary: “Why are you quiet?” Theon asked again.Myrcella sighed and leaned back further in the chair. “This is going to have to stop, you know.”He sighed. “I don’t want to play the Myrcella Baratheon games today, okay? What is going to have to stop?”She popped up and leaned forward. From here, she was only a few feet away from him now that he had sat back down. “Us,” she answered. “You heard Sansa earlier. With all this family drama she’s going to need me, and Robb is going to need you.”In the face of Stark family drama, Theon and Myrcella are left at odds about what to do with their secret friendship.ORa rough gossip girl au
Relationships: Myrcella Baratheon/Theon Greyjoy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 26





	Look At Us Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissFaber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissFaber/gifts).



Myrcella was still wearing her dress—a floor-length, near sheer white number that honestly left little to the imagination. She hadn’t anticipated dressing up so elegantly for the night, but she’d been feeling… confused and a little lost. So like in all times of true distress, she’d let Sansa pick out her outfit. Whatever, she felt hot (though, still quite confused). 

It was weird to look at your own life from a step back and suddenly be so unsure how you’d gotten there. How she was sitting across from Theon Greyjoy of all people. 

( _ Theon fucking Greyjoy… tell Myrcella two years ago, hell two months ago, that she would have somehow befriended Theon Greyjoy of all people and she wouldn’t believe you).  _

“You’re being awfully quiet,” Theon said before throwing his beer back and finishing the bottle in a hearty pull. He was sitting on the chair a few feet away from her, body twisted in some sort of strange position that had no right being comfortable. 

“I’m not.” Myrcella took a drink from her own beer, which she would normally have never bothered drinking, but she’d ended up at Theon’s after the gala instead of her own place. He had terrible taste in alcohol. Man, what she would do for a martini right about now. 

“You’re not talking, love. That's the definition of quiet.” He stood up to go to his kitchen, presumably to grab another beer, and she watched the now empty chair instead of him. 

“I hate when you call me love. Not only because you always say it in this smarmy, near condescending way, but because you aren’t British. You shouldn’t  _ get  _ to say it.” 

“My grandfather is British,” Theon replied. 

“I’m pretty sure British slang isn’t hereditary.” 

Theon laughed his throaty chuckle. It was always there then gone, often too quick to properly get a hold on, but always sort of rewarding. Myrcella had heard his painful silence where most people would politely fake laugh enough to know how rewarding a true Theon laugh was. How infrequently he found the Upper East Side to be genuine enough to laugh for and not simply something to mock. 

“Why are you quiet?” he asked again. 

Myrcella sighed and leaned back further in the chair. “This is going to have to stop, you know.” 

Theon sighed. “I don’t want to play the Myrcella Baratheon games today, okay? What is going to have to stop?” 

She popped up and leaned forward. From here, she was only a few feet away from him now that he had sat back down. “Us,” she answered. “You heard Sansa earlier. With all this family drama she’s going to need me, and Robb is going to need you.” 

“And?” Theon asked with a tilt of his head. 

“ _ And  _ they’re not going to need us together. They need us separately. Theon Greyjoy. Myrcella Baratheon. No and in the middle.” 

“Don’t you think that's a little dramatic?” he asked. “You usually don’t break up with friends.” 

“No one even knows we’re friends!” Myrcella exclaimed. “We were never meant to be friends. First you were Sansa’s, then you were…”

Theon raised his brows, seeming to enjoy waiting for her to finish that thought. 

She huffed. A few of the blonde tendrils framing her face floated with the puff of air then fell back in place. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I don’t actually like you that much.” 

“See, that just makes for such a good reason why our friendship works so well. I don’t really like  _ you _ that much, either.” 

“Hey! I’m a prize. I almost married a prince.” 

Theon smirked. “And where is your prince now?” 

Myrcella hopped to her feet and paced to the other side of the room. Being this close to him did nothing but infuriate her right now. He just had no barriers. All he did was push her, and  _ okay  _ so maybe it was sort of fun, and she actually liked having someone who didn’t walk around her on eggshells because it meant she could push right back without the fear of pushing too far, but it was also infuriating.  _ He _ was infuriating. 

“Fuck you, Theon,” she said, because she wasn’t sure what else to say right now. 

Did she want to lose Theon? Not really. She could begrudgingly admit that to herself. She’d only just now found him. Before this she’d never thought they would be friends, and it was a surprise to find he was actually kinda a good one. He was there when you needed him and ready to joke around when you might need your mind taken off of something. Did he overstep? Absolutely. Would he punch someone to defend your honor? Also yes. 

“Are you actually mad, Baratheon?” he called. 

Myrcella wasn’t sure. She thought she probably was angry, but she wasn’t certain it was  _ at  _ Theon. If anything, it might be because she’d let him in and up the ivory staircase she’d left guarded her whole life. If you didn’t let people up, you didn’t have to push them out. Now she was pushing him out. 

“Why are we even friends?” she asked, flinging her arms to the side. She turned to watch him answer, beyond curious what he might have to say to that. 

He ran a hand over his face. “Because we like to go out on the boat together? Because I don’t put up with any of your bullshit drama and you don’t put up with any of my bullshit, period? Because, gasp, we actually… like each other?”

Myrcella shook her head. “I  _ don’t  _ like you.” 

“This isn’t about Catelyn and her family drama falling over our best friends at all, is it?” Theon asked. He stood up. “This is about how everyone thinks we’ve been sneaking around because something might be going  _ on  _ between us”

Myrcella rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous. And it’s just your sister who thought that.” 

“And Tommen,” he returned.

“Tommen still sleeps with a stuffed animal. He isn’t a safe judge of mature, adult relationships.” 

“So you’re saying we have a mature, adult relationship.” 

“No, I’m saying the exact opposite.” Myrcella was grateful her hair was pulled back or she would be pulling it from nerves and frustration. “Why are you purposefully baiting me?” 

Theon stepped closer and pulled lightly at some of the framing hair of her face before pushing it behind her ear. Myrcella let him do it just long enough to feel the graze of his fingertips across her cheek, the unavoidable warmth of them, the gruffness of his workman’s hands despite being part of the elite for years now, and then slapped it away. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re angry,” he said. 

She narrowed her eyes. “Fuck. You.” 

“And you’re so sexy when you swear.” 

Myrcella rolled her eyes and took the littlest step back just to get some distance. “You don’t need to do this. I don’t know why you insist on flirting with me like it’s some kind of joke. Or maybe to try to push me away? I don’t get it. It’s all a lie. Don’t lie to me, Theon.” 

“Shouldn’t you want me to push you away?” Theon’s hands went into his pockets. He rocked on his heels for a moment, head bowed, before meeting her gaze. “That’s what you were saying, right? We can’t be friends anymore?”

“I—” Yes, that had been exactly what she was saying. But it wasn’t actually what she wanted.

She’d spent so much of her life doing exactly what everyone thought she should, and then she got tired of it. Her and Sansa had taken some of it back—less the good girls their parents wanted so desperately for them to be, but still in society. Was that what she was doing now, again? Was giving up Theon letting the assholes win? 

He wasn’t something to give up. It wasn’t like he was  _ hers.  _ She’d barely been friends with him before this. 

This was too confusing. She didn't know how she’d come here, how somehow Theon had started to feel like one of the people she could be the most honest with in her life. Maybe because he’d cracked through the princess exterior so quickly just to see who she was beneath it. He’d never put any expectations on her but the ones she set forth. 

“I should probably go,” she said. 

For a brief second, his face looked crestfallen. Then he was back to hard-to-read Theon. A man who never let anyone see he had feelings because he didn’t want people to hurt him. Here she was, hurting him. 

“Okay,” he said. “If you’re sure.” 

She wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t she moving?

“Actually,” he said, stepping closer. His shoulders pushed back. “Let me just say this. If you’re going to keep letting other people control your life because you don’t want anyone around you to be unhappy, then you’re always going to be the one unhappy. Sansa is a big girl, and Robb is a big boy, and they can handle their lives with us being friends or whatever it is we are.” 

“Whatever it is we are…” she trailed off again. 

Theon shrugged. “Do you know?” 

Myrcella couldn’t really understand what they were either. She didn’t know how to quantify them. She was alway meant to end up with someone like Robb. Boys like Theon, like Jon, had never been on her radar. 

She didn’t know, and she thought she should probably leave now before any of this got messy, but she also  _ wanted  _ to know. She liked answers. Probably because she’d spent so much of her life being lied to. It wouldn’t hurt to get this one, right?

“I’m going to kiss you,” she said. His face remained unreadable. “I think… we should just test it out. Then we can know. if Tommen or your sister is right. And then… we can reevaluate from there.” 

“Reevaluate? Sexy,” he said. 

She rolled her eyes, then she did kiss him. She wasn’t actually sure she was going to be able to go through with it, but as soon as she was kissing him… His hands came up to the sides of her face, and she fisted his shirt to drag him closer. He was sort of intoxicating. And one hell of a kisser, though she should have already known that from what Sansa had told her. 

Kissing him was not friendly. She felt like all she wanted to do was  _ keep  _ doing it. Definitely not a good sign. Myrcella pulled back. 

“Fuck,” she said. 

He smirked. “There you go swearing again. Baby, you  _ know  _ what that does to me.”

She laughed, genuinely, because even though this situation just got a lot more complicated and she was near stressing over it all… she was happy. Theon made her happy. That was the part she’d kept ignoring, focusing on how irritating he was, how infuriating. He made her feel  _ alive.  _ Her made her feel  _ seen.  _

“We just made it all more complicated, right?” he asked. There was a tinge of vulnerability in the question. It made Myrcella feel warm all over. 

“Definitely.” She sighed. Then laughed. “Well, we’ll have to tell Robb and Sansa about this then. But first…” 

Myrcella took a step back, kicking a heel off. Then the other one followed, dropping to the floor with a clack. Theon watched her move like he couldn't possibly take his eyes off her. She pushed the strap off her shoulder, let it hang there. 

“Should we…” 

Theon broke from his trance. “We need to,” he answered before picking her up and carrying her the last few steps to the bed. 

Tomorrow, certainly, the world will become harder again. But now, here, for at least a moment Myrcella enjoyed being in Theon’s arms… and his bed. 

**Author's Note:**

> you can also find me attttttt: [anniebibananie](http://anniebibananie.tumblr.com/)


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